


Jail Break

by Dustbunnygirl



Series: Tales of the Bard - Reggie's Story [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-19
Updated: 2007-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustbunnygirl/pseuds/Dustbunnygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Jail Break, 5 of 10<br/>Prompt: Blankets, “the 10s” challenge.<br/>Fandom: n/a<br/>Pairing: Dahlia/Reggie<br/>Rating: G<br/>Word count: 1652<br/>Warnings: No, this has nothing whatsoever to do with bestiality, even if one of the characters being written about here is, at the moment, a ferret. Those of you who read “The Not-So-Sordid Tale of Reginald the Unfortunate” (wherein I channeled Douglas Adams, badly) already know that furry little Reggie’s not at all what he seems. No angry comments or links to PETA, please.<br/>Disclaimer: These characters are entirely owned by moi and come from my still untitled, unpublished, mostly second drafted Monster Book of the Unholy. They do not play well with others. The only person to blame for them is, unfortunately, me. However, blame legal_padawan for the fact this story was written at all, as she twisted my arm into this challenge of hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jail Break

Insomnia, as a rule, wasn’t something ferrets typically suffered from. According to most, the ailment seemed to be a purely human invention, possibly blamed on the species’ inability to stop thinking, ever. They were, as a whole, a worrisome group, always neck deep in panic or paranoia or any other emotional state keen on preventing the brain from grinding to a halt long enough to induce sleep. The very thing that was hailed as Man’s greatest evolutionary triumph – conscious thought and reason – also served as its greatest weakness. Ferrets were lucky at least in that regard, in their simplistic mental solitude.

All ferrets but one, of course.

Not that he’d been counting all that concisely, but there were fifteen steps from one end of Reggie’s cage to the other. If he crawled up to the second level there were another fifteen there. The third level, being slightly shorter, was only ten steps long. He lost count of the number of trips he’d made between the leftmost bottom corner and the topmost left corner since he’d been shut away after dinner. The back and forth was like jailhouse pacing and after awhile he was sure he’d left foot-shaped indents permanently in the newspaper lining the bottom level. 

Nor that he could pinpoint the cause of the unrest beyond a certain something prickly in the air, worse than static electricity or a brewing storm. Even the mortals felt it, which he was sure was why they’d been conferencing like war chiefs and pouring over endless piles of books for days. It was like they could smell the lightning waiting to strike, feel the wind preparing to gust and gale. He felt it too, in deep recesses where forgotten memories dwelled and spoke of battle and blood. He dreamt the other night of the clang of steel and the whoosh of arrows cutting the air; he hadn’t dreamt of either since long before anyone in the apartment had even been born.

The dustbunnies had been restless as well, which only really spelled disaster for all involved. Four restless creatures of dubious creation, when left unattended in the same space, tended to cause a fair bit of chaos. Cushions were chewed, curtains shredded, shoes nibbled on. In the end, it meant all creatures, dubiously created or no, were relegated to their cages at nightfall, their names muttered like curses every time a new scrap of paper or piece of shoestring or handful of pillow stuffing was discovered. It meant Reggie was left to pace in his cage in Dahlia’s room when sleep, however necessary, remained elusive. 

Despite the fact the alarm clock clearly said it was after midnight, Dahlia’s bed was empty, covers pulled up to hide unfolded clothes, half-tucked sheets, and whatever else was left on the mattress and simply pushed aside when its occupant finally shuffled off to bed. For hours Reggie had strained to hear and translate the muffled drone of conversation from the living room as the bipeds discussed whatever had them all a-twitter. Four of them: one human, one half-breed, one mutt, and one royal, talking calmly when the conversation lingered on strategy, voices raised – Eva’s particularly – whenever the word “sister” fell into the mix. But silence reigned on the other side of the door now. A calm in the eye of panic’s storm, perhaps, or maybe they had all silently strangled each other in frustration. Anything, at this point, was possible.

“Pssst!” The noise came from under the bedroom door, exceedingly soft and squeaky. Reggie squinted in the LED-lit darkness, trying to see what it was making the noise. 

“Pssst!” came another voice, as soft, as squeaky, but the slightest bit deeper than the first. 

“Yeah, pssst already!”

“Oh lord,” he said as he identified the three-part harmony of exhaled air coming from the other side of the door. “What do you three wankers want? A rematch? Surely. But be prepared, I shall trounce you all soundly yet a…”

“Did he just call us wankers?”

“Yeah, he definitely just called us wankers.”

“What’s a wanker?”

“Don’t worry, Ed, we’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“I’m just as old as the both of – ow!”

Even in the dark, Reggie could see something squeezing between the bottom of the door and the floor a few inches beneath it. A moment later a two paws, preceded by a dusty pink nose and two shabby bunny ears emerged on the other side. By the time Willie, the largest of the three hooligans, had squeezed his boneless way through, Wally and Ed were working on their entrance as well. Ed stopped to rub his nose and glare at the larger and louder two-thirds of the trio.

“Oh hell,” Reggie muttered as he lay down in his cage and covered his eyes with his paws. 

“Don’t look so happy to see us, Jeeves,” Willie said with a flick of one rabbit ear. “Wouldn’t wanna inflate our heads or anything.”

“There’s not room for any more air between your collective ears.” Reggie pried one paw from his face to watch the three hop-waddle toward his cage. “You’re all in danger of popping if a strong breeze happens to whoosh through your ears as it is.”

Willie bounced forward a step and glared. “You saying we’re air-headed?”

Wally bounced forward two steps and chimed in with, “I think we called us air-headed.”

Ed hung back a step behind the other three, still rubbing his nose, but added, “He definitely called us…”

“Enough!” Reggie pulled himself to his feet and paced to the cage bars. Only Ed jumped back at his glare. “Save me and yourselves the Three Stooges routine and simply tell me why it is you’ve gone to such great lengths to torment me in the middle of the night.”

“Fine, if you gotta be a grouch about it.” Wally gave Ed a jerky nod and the smallest of the trio approached the cage door, cautious glances keeping the ferret and the other two bunnies in constant sight. When he was close enough, Ed reached for the newly purchased “Breakout Proof” cage latch and jimmied and shimmied it until the soft click of the release sounded in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Figured, since it was partly our fault…”

“But just partly, understand.”

“…that you got consigned to solitary, we’d spring you. Sign of good faith and all.” Willie stepped aside as Reggie gave the door a push and stepped out onto the bare wood floor. After the barrier of newspaper he’d been walking on all night, the wood was cold against his paws. The cold felt like freedom, though, so he didn’t even think to complain.

“And in exchange for this Good Samaritan act?” Reggie asked, watching the trio of long-eared dust balls with a paranoid sort of caution. 

“First one’s free,” Wally said with a wink. “After this, we start charging ya.”

“’Sides,” Ed offered with the shrug of his bent right ear. “We know you worry about Red if she’s not in sight. Figure someone’s gotta watch out for her.”

“Yeah, someone’s gotta watch out for her, otherwise our Chocolate Dipped Altoids supply gets cut off…”

“…and things get ugly.” Willie looked him square in the eye, not even blinking. “And you wouldn’t like us when we get ugly.”

Reggie merely shook his head and pushed past the three on the way to the door. “Which oddly isn’t as terrifying as you obviously wish it were, given I don’t like you anyway. But noted, all the same.”

After a death-defying, eye poking balancing act to get the bedroom door opened, Reggie and the boys tip-toed into the living room as silently and cautiously as mittoned mice. The three dustbunnies disappeared into the sliver of darkness beneath the couch while Reggie stopped to take in the figure sprawled across its cushions.

Dahlia had fallen asleep curled up in a corner of the sofa, her head pillowed on her crossed arms and a book resting open on her lap. Guy had claimed the opposite corner and fallen asleep in much the same fashion. Where the other two had wandered was anyone’s guess, and to be honest Reggie didn’t want to think too desperately on the possibilities. There were some things, he firmly believed, that ones cohorts simply did not need to know. The sleeping arrangements of the bookworm and her displaced prince ranked high on the list.

With careful teeth and claws Reggie pulled the book from Dahlia’s lap and to the floor as soundlessly as he could manage. He jumped onto the couch without jostling a single cushion and used the same wary combination of pointed accessories to tug the afghan from the back of the couch. Guy jerked once as the crocheted blanket pulled from beneath his shoulder but didn’t wake. Dahlia, dead to the world as she ever was, didn’t seem to notice anything going on at all as Reggie maneuvered the afghan over her and proceeded to tuck her in gently as possible. She just snuggled further into the corner and smiled.

“That’s right, Sleeping Beauty,” he said as he fought to pull the blanket over her shoulder and tuck it somewhat securely behind her. “Nothing to see here. Slumber on.”

When he was finally content with the arrangement of things, with the quantity of covered redhead and the amount of shivering near-pixie just next door, Reggie took up his perch on Dahlia’s left shoulder, warm fur curled against her cold neck. He nuzzled his head softly against the underside of her jaw and let his heart take a small bit of joy from her sleepy smile in response. There were worst things than this he could be consigned to, he thought as he closed his eyes.

Eternity knew far worse punishment than a little unrequited love, even if it did come with the three dust balls of the apocalypse as well.


End file.
